


handmade

by strifescloud



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, Royalty AU, crown prince genesis, honour guard cloud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25911910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strifescloud/pseuds/strifescloud
Summary: “It’s Cloud’s birthday and I want to bake him a cake.”Genesis heard Zack laugh from the other chamber and rolled his eyes, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on.“Genesis,” Angeal began cautiously, staring at him with a look that was equally fond and baffled, “do you even know how to bake? Or cook anything at all?”“I am a master mage,” Genesis sniffed haughtily, giving Zack a scathing look as he brought more books to Angeal’s desk, “the greatest materia scholar in this country - or any other, for that matter. I think I can figure out how to put flour and a few eggs together.”[happy birthday, my dearest cloud!]
Relationships: Genesis Rhapsodos/Cloud Strife
Comments: 7
Kudos: 72





	handmade

**Author's Note:**

> like a terrible parent i forgot about my darling boy's birthday until the very last moment so i'm pretending his birthday is still the 19th so i'm not late. happy birthday cloud!! genesis and i love you very, very much
> 
> don't take this too seriously LOL i just wanted to play in @corvidkohai's royalty AU prince genesis sandbox for a moment since the thought of it wouldn't leave me alone

Genesis slammed the doors to Sephiroth’s office shut behind him, the ancient hinges creaking under the force. The sound echoed through the stone chamber, bouncing off the grand arches, but Sephiroth’s gaze did not move from the papers that captured his attention.

“Sephiroth,” Genesis whined, “I need your help.” Sephiroth’s quill continued to scratch across the parchment, unmoved by the sound.

“How may I assist you, Your Grace?” Sephiroth asked flatly, still refusing to look up.

“ _Lord Commander_.” Genesis mimicked sarcastically, sprawling in the chair that sits across from his chief military advisor. He threw his feet up onto Sephiroth’s desk, boots crossed and his elbows digging inelegantly into the arms of the chair as he sank into it, and he relished the way Sephiroth’s gaze slowly shifted to stare indignantly at the offending shoes. His voice was quieter when he spoke, though, as he absently toyed with the jewel that hung from his ear, “It’s Cloud’s birthday soon.”

“It is,” Sephiroth said with a touch more warmth, setting his quill back in its pot, “I’m surprised you remembered.”

“Zack mentioned it to Angeal.” Genesis confessed, and Sephiroth almost smiled.

“Ah, of course. And what does that have to do with me?” 

Genesis shifted, an uncharacteristic discomfort, and Sephiroth paused.

“You don’t know what to do about it, do you?” He prodded, and Genesis sighed like the world was ending.

“ _No_ , thoughtfulness has never been my finest point.” He frowned, both at the problem and the slight furrow in Sephiroth’s brow, “You tell me what to get him. He’s one of yours, right?”

“I think you will find,” Sephiroth said slowly, his piercing eyes suddenly very fixed on Genesis, “that he is yours - or rather, he is your dedicated honour guard, and spends almost every waking moment at your side. I think my input would have little value.”

Genesis sighed again, sinking further into the chair and running one hand through his hair.

“I _know_ , but I don’t have any ideas. What do guards like?” Sephiroth cleared his throat and Genesis narrowed his eyes, suspicious - that almost sounded like a laugh.

“Should you wish it, I could dispatch troops today,” Sephiroth said, reaching for another piece of paper from the large pile at the end of his desk, “hundreds of them, to go to the Nibel mountains and slay one of the dragons there. They could bring back its skin as a trophy, to craft the finest armour for your most dedicated servant, that he might better protect you.”

“Why send hundreds when you could kill it yourself?” Genesis picked up one of the bizarre ornaments on Sephiroth’s desk, spinning the engraved wheels even as the blazing stare followed his hands. Sephiroth picked up a large chunk of the pile of papers, dropping them back on his desk in front of him with a surprising _thud_ and picking his quill up again.

“Other obligations, Your Grace, than the whims of the Crown Prince.” Genesis huffed, displeased, and tossed the ornament back onto the desk, watching it roll and smudge the fresh ink with petulant satisfaction. Sephiroth sighed heavily, the furrow in his brow deepening.

“Cloud wouldn’t even _like_ that,” Genesis complained, tugging at his earring again as he thought, “you know what he’s like.”

“Then clearly you have some idea of what he _would_ like. Have you tried asking him?”

“ _No…”_

“Where is he now?” Genesis blinked, surprised at the question - where else would Cloud be, except somewhere just within reach?

“At the door, of course. I told him not to listen in.” Sephiroth smiled at that - really smiled, even if only slight, and Genesis’s fidgeting fingers froze for a second.

“You have a nation to run. Ask him what he wants and be done with it,” He began sternly, but his tone softened, “and really, Genesis, he’ll love anything _you_ give to him. You know that.”

Genesis sniffed, swallowing the _are you sure_ that threatened to crawl out of his throat and pushing himself upright in the chair.

“Of course he will, I have excellent taste.” His boots hit the ground with a thud and he stood, still lingering for a second even as Sephiroth turned back to his papers again, raising his voice to its normal volume again, “Thank you, Lord Commander.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” Sephiroth murmured in return, sounding both deeply amused and perfectly deferential. Genesis turned on his heel, striding out of the room, but letting the door close softly behind him. Cloud fell into step at his side as he kept walking back to his own chambers, an ever-steady presence.

“That was quick for a meeting with the Lord Commander.” Cloud commented close to Genesis’s ear. Genesis turned to frown at him - _definitely_ not pouting - but Cloud’s face was perfectly and deliberately neutral as other servants passed by, heads ducked and eyes wandering.

“I don’t pick a fight with Sephiroth _every_ time we talk.” Genesis retorted as they reached his chamber door, looking at Cloud again. Cloud’s eyes had softened from the blank look he wears in the halls, a spark of fondness hidden within that only Genesis gets to see, and the sight of it emboldens him - that he might hope to repay the endless loyalty that Cloud has shown him, that had slowly blossomed into something more. Cloud’s lips twitch into a half-smile, almost invisible unless you knew where to look, and he gestured at the door.

“After you, Your Grace.” 

“Thank you, Cloud.”

* * *

The answer arrives, though indirectly, in the form of an emissary from the Nibel region. The man was haggard-looking, but still spoke clearly and with a glint of steel in his eye, and something in the man’s quiet yet strong demeanour reminded Genesis of Cloud.

“Is there something in particular you miss about Nibelheim?” Genesis asks when they’re back in his chambers, flopping onto his bed in a manner entirely unbefitting the Crown Prince. He rolled over to stare at Cloud when an answer was not forthcoming, taking in the way his brow furrowed in thought, the soft candlelight on his face. Sometimes Cloud took a long time to answer him, and Genesis wondered what he would think about when his silences stretched on - when Cloud was so blunt with him otherwise, had always spoken to him in a way no one aside from Sephiroth and Angeal had ever dared.

“My mother’s cooking, I think.” Cloud finally answered, and Genesis blinked.

“You know if you asked I could have the servants make anything you want.” Genesis pushed himself up, sitting so he faced Cloud, “I have the finest chefs in the country, after all.” 

Cloud laughed at him, very quietly, and took a seat.

“It’s not the same,” Cloud explained, eyes drifting to stare out the window, “the way the smell of fresh bread would fill the house while the snow piled up outside, or the way the vegetables were cut a little crooked. It’s different, when someone cooks for you, even if they’re not the best.” Something in Cloud’s gaze looked sad, even if Genesis couldn’t really see it, and he tapped his fingernails on the wood of his bed to try and draw Cloud’s eyes back to him. Cloud didn’t seem to notice, or perhaps was too used to Genesis’s constant attempts to grab his attention.

“I guess I wouldn’t know,” Genesis muses, resting his chin on his hand, “everything here is made for me.” Cloud hummed at that, finally turning to face him with an unreadable look on his face.

“It’s made for their prince,” He said quietly, “not for _you_.”

Their conversation turned away from the topic, Genesis trying to erase the odd shadow that had fallen over Cloud’s eyes, but the words stayed in his head, echoing as Cloud’s birthday drew closer.

* * *

“The scouts on the western border said that-”

“I want to bake Cloud a cake.”

Angeal blinked.

“Sorry, what?” 

Genesis sighed irritably, tossing the report he wasn’t reading back on Angeal’s desk. Angeal looked like he wanted to frown at him, but settled for retrieving the paper and shuffling it into the stack he was holding.

“It’s Cloud’s birthday and I want to bake him a cake.”

Genesis heard Zack laugh from the other chamber and rolled his eyes, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on.

“Genesis,” Angeal began cautiously, staring at him with a look that was equally fond and baffled, “do you even know how to bake? Or cook anything at all?”

“I am a master mage,” Genesis sniffed haughtily, giving Zack a scathing look as he brought more books to Angeal’s desk, “the greatest materia scholar in this country - or any other, for that matter. I think I can figure out how to put flour and a few eggs together.”

“Oh, that’s two ingredients,” Zack flashed him a cheeky grin and a thumbs up, standing behind Angeal’s shoulder, “you’re on a roll.” 

“I can have you beheaded for your insolence.” Genesis mumbled, but without any real bite to it, turning so his legs draped over the arm of the intricately-carved chair and ignoring Angeal’s disapproving frown. 

“What brought this on?" Angeal finally set his reports to the side, leaning forward with his elbows on the table and his hands clasped tightly together. Genesis shot him a look at his tone - he could _be nice_ , he was a very generous and beloved prince - but Angeal continued, "I don't recall you doing anything special in the many years he has been at your side. Did something change?” Genesis remained pointedly silent, and Angeal changed his approach, frown deepening, “Can’t you just ask the kitchen to do it?”

“He said it’s different when someone cooks _for_ you.” Genesis explained, a little hesitantly, suddenly feeling very exposed. He looked back at his knees, feet swaying as they hung over the side of the chair. Zack made a surprised noise, and after a beat of silence clapped his hands, the sound echoing through the silence of the grand chamber.

“Spike’ll _love_ that!” Zack assured him, suddenly coming over to lean into Genesis’s space with too much enthusiasm, “I mean, I think he’d love anything you did for him.”

“Sephiroth said that too.” The feeling of being exposed felt a lot stronger, prickling on his skin.

“Sephiroth,” Angeal interrupted, “is very often right. Are you sure you don’t want any help? I am always at your disposal, as your steward or as your friend.”

Genesis shook his head, though he couldn’t help smiling at Angeal’s ever-serious assurances.

“I’ll do it myself or I won’t do it at all, but...thank you.” Genesis said, warmer than he intended, “However, Zack, I may require your assistance.” Zack straightened suddenly from where he was leaning on the back of Angeal’s chair, a surprised look on his face.

“Me?”

“Yes, you,” Genesis said without any of his usual bite, “because you’re going to distract Cloud for me tomorrow.”

The other two both paused, Angeal turning in his chair so he can give Zack a very prolonged look before turning back to Genesis.

“Distract Cloud...from you?” Zack asked nervously, shooting the back of Angeal’s head another odd glance, “For how long?”

“As long as it takes to make a cake. You two are friends, aren’t you? Just,” Genesis waved his hand dismissively, “go spar or gossip or whatever it is you two do.”

“Sure, Your Grace.” Zack agreed with a hint of sarcasm Genesis did _not_ appreciate, “Sounds very easy, Your Grace.”

“ _Good._ ” Genesis said, a note of finality in his tone, and he returned his gaze to Angeal, “Now, the scouts on the eastern border?”

“The _western_ border.”

“Right, right.”

* * *

The kitchen fell silent as Genesis flung open the doors, striding in under the gaze of dozens of suddenly terrified servants. Though the hall was wide, the heat of the open flames was still uncomfortable to his skin, but he ignored it as he moved forward, ignoring the eyes that followed his every step.

“Y-Your Grace, may we assist you?” An older woman asked, and Genesis found he could not recall her name. He cleared his throat, casting his gaze about the busy hall before replying.

“I don’t wish to be disturbed,” he said firmly, “nor do I wish to disturb you. I’m just making a cake.”

He thought dryly that he could have heard a pin drop in the ensuing silence, despite the crackle of flames.

“A….cake, Your Grace? If there’s anything Your Grace should desire, we-”

“No, no, no,” Genesis interrupted, waving his hand dismissively at her, “I will just be doing that over here, don’t mind me. You all should be _working_ , anyway.” There was a sudden clatter of noise as the servants all turned back to their tasks, though he could feel their eyes wandering still. He turned again to address the older woman, “Show me where I can get what I need.”

Once his utensils were in hand, he rolled up his sleeves - and truly, his childhood etiquette tutor would have keeled over in shock at the sight of him, he was sure, gracelessly spilling flour over his clothes and working amongst the common folk. But it would be worth it, he thought, for the way Cloud’s eyes would slowly light up like the rising of the sun, the way his face would shift into that expression Genesis knew so well, not really a smile but something that spoke infinitely more to happiness.

Some hours later, he was rethinking his expectations.

He poked sullenly at the misshapen lump that he had pulled out of the oven, frowning at one of the nearby servants.

“It’s not _supposed_ to look like this.” He said sullenly, and the servant gave him a terrified look before averting their eyes back to the table.

“N-no, Your Grace.”

Genesis opened his mouth again, but before he could speak the doors swung open again with a crash, Cloud rushing in through the entrance with one hand clasped firmly around his sword, ready to pull it free at a moment’s notice. When he spotted Genesis he froze, eyebrows drawing together in confusion and a bit of anger as he spoke.

“Your Grace, you cannot go _missing_ for hours!” The words were clipped with irritation, bouncing harshly off the stone walls. Genesis crossed his arms, trying to pretend he didn’t look like a mess, flour everywhere and hair in disarray. 

“I can go wherever I want in _my_ castle, Strife.” Cloud released his grip on his sword, taking a visibly deep breath before approaching Genesis at a much slower pace. Something in Cloud’s face gave Genesis pause, and he took a quick look around, noting all eyes in the hall fixed on the two of them.

“Everyone _out!_ ” He snapped, and the servants took off, leaving bowls and utensils behind with a clatter as they dashed out of the room - unwilling, despite their curiosity, to face their prince’s famous temper. Cloud sighed again as they all left, running one hand through his hair and giving Genesis an utterly exasperated look.

“What are you _doing_ down here? Do you know how worried I was when I came back from sparring with Zack and you weren’t where you were supposed to be?” Genesis shifted again, averting his eyes down to the table, half annoyed and half utterly endeared by Cloud’s visible concern.

“I’m not a child, I can go where I wish.” He retorted, and Cloud made a frustrated noise that Genesis rarely heard.

“My job is to protect you. I can’t do that if I don’t know where you are.” Cloud took another step closer, finally noticing the line of Genesis’s gaze - and the awful, misshapen lump that sat on the table, looking more pathetic with each passing second. Genesis grimaced, and Cloud looked back at him, perplexed.

“Are you... _baking_?” Genesis shrugged, running one hand through his hair flippantly and then grimacing again when he realised it still was covered in flour.

“Well, it’s your birthday.” He said without thought and then froze, that awful exposed feeling crawling over his skin again. Cloud’s face shifted into an expression Genesis couldn’t name, and the sudden anxious pit in his stomach was something he wasn’t sure how to manage. Cloud took another step closer, leaning over the table to inspect the cake with the same careful gaze he used to inspect his sword, and Genesis vaguely wished that either of his most valued advisors had talked him out of this.

Oh, yes, Angeal had tried. Right.

Cloud straightened, turning to Genesis again - and Genesis wondered if he had ever seen him smile so brightly, a shimmer of true amusement in his eyes.

“You made me a birthday cake.” Cloud said, and there was a waver in his voice like he was trying not to laugh. Genesis scowled at him half-heartedly, turning away again and trying not to look like a petulant child.

“Well, I _tried_ to.” Cloud did laugh a little at that, stepping a little closer and bringing his hand up to Genesis’s face. He brushed stray flour off Genesis’ cheek with his thumb, gentle despite the rough calluses on his fingers, the other hand coming to rest on Genesis’s upper arm.

“It’s the best birthday cake I’ve ever gotten.” Cloud said warmly, and Genesis swallowed around the weird feeling in his chest and tried to summon his normally faultless confidence.

“Of course it is,” he said with something like a smirk, “handcrafted by a prince.” 

Cloud leaned in closer, slowly shifting so his arms wrapped around Genesis’s neck.

“May I kiss you, Your Grace?”

And this part of their relationship was still new to him - beyond lord and retainer, meeting as equals, the bond that had tied them together for many years shifting into something Genesis found equally exhilarating and terrifying. But as Genesis leaned forward in response, one hand finding Cloud’s waist as their lips brushed together - chaste and brief, but he could feel Cloud smile tenderly into the kiss and it made something in his chest ache - he thought all this embarrassment had been worth it, for these brief moments they could steal. Cloud moved back slightly as they broke apart, and Genesis mourned the closeness but did not chase after it - they were still technically in public, after all, and they hadn’t figured it all out yet. 

But Cloud was always at his side, rarely more than an arms width away, and so really Genesis didn’t have to miss much at all.

“You don’t have to eat it.” Genesis said instead of voicing any of his thoughts, and Cloud’s eyebrows rose. He leaned over, breaking off a lumpy piece with his fingers and putting it in his mouth. Genesis cleared his throat as Cloud’s face shifted, a variety of emotions crossing his face before he reluctantly swallowed, “Really, Cloud, you don’t.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Cloud said, and Genesis did laugh aloud at that, “Might I suggest you ask for help next time.”

“You can call me Genesis when we’re alone,” Genesis reminded him rather than admitting he’d ever need help, “I already told you.” Cloud’s shoulders shifted slightly and he cast a glance over his shoulder at the door, firmly shut.

“I wouldn’t say we were truly alone, Your Grace. Might I suggest we return to your chambers, where I had expected to find you?” Genesis rolled his eyes at the hint of teasing in Cloud’s tone, but obediently walked towards the doors.

“Fine, fine.”

As he opened the doors again, ignoring the hushed whispers of the servants that flooded back into the kitchens, Cloud fell into step behind him - ever at his side.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you very much for reading !! i can now be found on twitter at my video games account @strifesrhapsody <3 hope you all have a great day !


End file.
